


baby, I'm not made of stone

by izzyasavestheday (stilessexual)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilessexual/pseuds/izzyasavestheday
Summary: “Did I ever tell you that we feel everything? The clan, I mean. If I focus enough, I can tell you who’s sad and who’s angry and who hasn’t been sleeping properly. I can tell you who’s been having nightmares. There are no secrets here.”(Fix-it fic)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have a final paper to submit in three hours and I wrote this instead :)

Raphael feels ancient.

He knows he isn’t –he’s met ancient. He’s met beings so old, they’d been eroded down to nothing by what the world had done to them. He’s a toddler in comparison, he’s well aware of the fact.

But at this very moment he’s bleeding out his life’s essence and Raphael Santiago feels ancient.

The fledgling, Simon, _Simon_ –who’d betrayed him, betrayed everything they’d been tentatively building, the clan, he’d betrayed the clan _fuck_ Raphael. How could Simon just give up everything they’d given him? They’d opened their hearts and welcomed him into their home, how could he? For what? — Simon was crying, fat bloody tears, over Raphael.  

Raphael knew Camille would find a way to get back at him for his betrayal.

And, well, here they were.  

“Heal,” Simon begged. “For the love of _God_ heal.”

Raphael hurt like he’d never hurt before –not when he’d died, not when he wished he’d actually died but yet, amazingly enough, through the haze of the ache he still wanted to comment, desperately, that Simon, idiot Simon, had uttered God without choking. He wanted to make a pathetic remark on how impressive it was. He wanted the fledgling to stop crying.

 “Nunca te perdonaré por esto,” Simon said “how will I—

Raphael gasped against Simon’s hands, pressed tight tight tight against his side, in a vain effort to stop the bleeding. He didn’t know Simon even understood Spanish, let alone spoke it with such ease. The fledging never ceased to surprise him. 

“Sorry, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Simon was crying, crying like Raphael had never seen before. The sobs wracked through him something painful. “Magnus is coming. Magnus is coming –Raphael, please _please"_

Raphael tried to hold on to the fledgling’s voice, fuck, he tried to hold on to the sound of Camille’s diabolical laughter, but the darkness overwhelmed him—

The last thing he heard was Simon’s wail of grief.  

-

He woke up.

Despite every atom in his body begging for the final rest, he woke up.

Dear God, Raphael just wanted to rest.

“You’re not dead, you dick.”

Simon. _Simon_.

Raphael sighed, eyes screwed shut. 

Simon went on, “You almost were.”

Raphael opened his eyes to the sight of Magnus’ bedroom ceiling.

“Camille?” Raphael asked, despite himself. Despite not wanting to know. Despite wishing he’d never fucking met her.

There was silence for so long, Raphael turned to the source of Simon’s voice.

They were oceans away from one another. The fledgling was sitting as far away from Raphael as he could before clawing his way through the wall and out into the sunlight –tucked into a corner, with his hands deep in his pockets, and his face turned away from Raphael.

Simon sighed heavily, like the weight on the entire world was on his shoulders. “She’s dead.”

Raphael struggled into a sitting position. 

“ _Cómo carajo_?”

_howhowhowhowhowhow_

Simon was suddenly at his side, a line of wonderful heat and soft hands gently pushing him back into the mattress.

“You’re still weak,” He murmured. “She’s gone. You’re safe. Everyone is safe.”

“ _How?_ ”

Raphael realized he was a lot more hurt than he’d originally thought when he flinched harshly at the swing of the door.  

“Oh god,” Lily pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. “Oh god. You’re not dead.”

Simon was still a line of heat stretched over him. Raphael patted the bed sluggishly, suddenly overwhelmingly exhausted. “Don’t be stupid. C’mere.”

Simon reached further over him and pressed a vial into Lily’s hands. “Give this to him when the pain becomes too much.”

“I’m right here,” Raphael muttered.

“Shut up,” Simon replied easily. “Seriously, go to sleep.”

Lily was watching Simon with wide, wide eyes.

“Simon—

He grinned at her bright and alive and Raphael loved him Raphael loved him Raphael loved him Raphael _loved_ him—

Simon left silently. So silently, Raphael wondered jealously who’d been training him.

Lily crawled into bed beside him. She pressed trembling hands to his face. To his chest.  She checked him for scars they both knew she wouldn’t find on the surface.

“He saved us.” She finally whispered. “Simon killed Camille.”

Raphael felt his eyes widen. He felt the world as he knew it shift and change beneath him.

“You closed your eyes,” she went on, voice trembling “and it was like something –I’ve never seen anything like it, Raphael. Grief like that. I’ve never seen a fledgling survive killing their maker.” 

-

Simon moved back in quietly.

In fact, he stayed quiet. He moved silently around their home. He barely interacted.

They let him be. They let him be. They all knew what the realization of immortality felt like –they’d all felt the weight of it around their necks before.

Simon was quiet until the redheaded Shadowhunter came through their home like a hurricane, leaving nothing but destruction in her wake.

“Where is he,” she snarled. “What did you do to Simon?”

Oh wow. Wow. Raphael had so much, so much, to say to that, but he never got the chance.

“Clary,” Simon stumbled out of the shadows on clumsy feet. Raphael unthinkingly steadied him with a hand on his elbow. “What’re you doing here?”

“Simon, you haven’t answered your phone.” She deflated in relief at the sight of him. Raphael knew the feeling, intensely. “Magnus said that you’d come here willingly but that doesn’t—

Simon smiled, sadly.

“That doesn’t make sense, though.” Hating himself, Raphael couldn’t help but feel for her. Without the rage and the fire that burned through the Nephilim, she was a child that had lost everything she’d ever known. “This isn’t –Simon, you can’t, you don’t belong here.”

“ _Clary_ ,” Simon said her name like he was heartbroken. He said her name so wounded, so tired, Raphael couldn’t help but tighten his grip on Simon’s elbow in aching sympathy. He very nearly ordered the nosey clan back into the shadows. No one had the right to witness this heartbreak. “Clary, you forgot that I need to drink blood to survive.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I spent months at the Institute,” he exhaled.  “ _Months_. Not a single time did you remember that I needed blood. Do you know who remembered? Alec. Clary, Alec doesn’t even like me but he accepted the reality of me being a vampire.”

“Simon—

“I’m not angry,” he went on. “I swear to you I’m not. I don’t blame you for wanting to hold onto my humanity but I don’t belong at the Institute, Clary, you know that. I don’t belong with the Shadowhunters.”

“You can’t want to be here,” Clary said through an aching sob. She had no right, Raphael thought furiously, no damn right to stand there looking more like an angel than any of the Nephilim ever dreamed and _cry_ at the fate she’d wrought. “These aren’t your people.”

Simon shook his head, the saddest smile on his lips. “Did I ever tell you that we feel everything? The clan, I mean. If I focus enough, I can tell you who’s sad and who’s angry and who hasn’t been sleeping properly. I can tell you who’s been having nightmares. There are no secrets here.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply. Simon rushed on.

“I can tell you who’s in love,” he whispered. Raphael dropped Simon’s elbow like it burned but Simon didn’t let him wallow in his despair. He just laced his fingers through Raphael’s, easy, like it wasn’t the most colossal thing in all of creation. “I can tell you who’s just plain exhausted. Clary, the clan –I feel them, all of the time, like little points of light. If I lose any of them, I just–you have to understand, being away from them was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

She shook her head. “I can’t understand that, Simon. They wanted to _kill_ you.” She pointed a furious finger at Raphael. “He wanted to kill you.”

“He,” Simon took a breath he didn’t need. He held on to Raphael. Raphael, like Simon, breathed deep for the first time in years. “ _He_ saved me more times than I’ll ever be able to repay him. And I went behind his back. I lied to him. I betrayed his trust and let out one of the only people in the world who have the ability to destroy his family.”

Raphael wished the shadows would swallow him whole. He loved him He loved him He loved him—

“Come home,” Clary’s tears dripped heavy off of her chin. “Please, please just come home. We’ll figure it out.”   

“Clary,” Simon said her name again. It fell off of his tongue like a prayer. “One day, not today and not tomorrow, but Clary, one day I’m gonna wake up and everyone I know and love will have died. My mom. Rebecca. Luke. You.”

“You’re gonna die, Clary.” Simon’s voice cracked. Raphael saw Lily swipe quick hands under her eyes. The clan rocked, aching, for Simon. “You’re gonna die and God, you can’t do this to me. You can’t be selfish enough to want me to be hurting and alone at the end of the world.”

Silence. Silence. Silence.

“You said God,” Clarke finally croaked. “Since when have you been able to say God?”

“Since I almost lost Raphael,” he whispered, like they weren’t all there. Like he wasn’t cracking the bones in Raphael’s hand from holding on so tight. He didn’t care, he’d take anything _anything_ Simon was willing to give him. “There was a lot of clarity there.”

“Oh,” her face was tear streaked and blackened with her makeup, lips swollen, human human human angel Clary, something changed in the lilt of her little oh. She finally saw their clasped hands. “ _Oh_.”

She rubbed her face roughly, uncaring of the havoc she wrecked on her skin, and laughed.

“Are you breaking up with me, Simon Lewis?”

Simon grinned –bright, bright, bright as the sun.

“Remember when you beat up Justin Gates for me in the third grade?” He asked. Simon stretched his free hand towards her and she collapsed, like a dying star, into his arms. Renewed sobs wracked painfully through her and Raphael knew she wasn’t just crying for Simon, but for all they’d lost in the few short months they’d been shoved into the Shadow World.

Stan stepped forward, awkwardly, a glass of water in hand. “Even the Nephilim get dehydrated.”

Clary hiccuped her giggles into Simon’s shirt.  

(Simon never let go of Raphael. Not even when he had Clary.)    

-

“You know,” Raphael started. “You shouldn’t have survived killing Camille.”

Simon stared at him, doe-eyed and everything Raphael has ever wanted.

“I’ve been brave a lot these past few days,” he finally whispered. “But I can’t be brave about this, Raphael. I need you—

It was the best kind of inevitable. It was the greatest thing Raphael had ever felt. The impossible heat of Simon just barely pressing against him. The coolness of their exchanged breaths on each others’ faces. It was everything, everything, everything Raphael had never known he’d been missing.  

“What do you need me to do?” Raphael whispered just _so_ against Simon’s lips –so afraid to break the sacredness they’d managed to create in the darkness of their room.  

Simon grinned, bright bright bright, Raphael’s gonna write sonnets and paint paintings about Simon’s beautiful smile –It would be the biggest shame if the rest of the world didn’t get to witness it in some way.

“Meet me halfway.”

Raphael pressed his lip against Simon’s. He felt young. He felt old. He felt everlasting.

**Author's Note:**

> Nunca te perdonaré por esto- I will never forgive you for this.   
> Cómo carajo? -How the fuck? 
> 
> Thank you for reading~


End file.
